The Palace of Lost Memories: After The Rift, Book 1

by C. J. Archer

  "You're not useless, Captain. You've got a thousand-strong household to worry about, plus all the visiting nobles with their jealousies, not to mention a king with a bowel problem."

  He smiled again. "It's never dull here, that's certain."

  "Perhaps it will be now that Lord Frederick has been caught. What will you do with him?"

  "He'll face Glancian justice. Whatever that is," he added in a mutter.

  I wondered why he faced justice when the other prisoners did not. "Keep an eye on the duke of Gladstow," I said. "I caught him arguing with Lady Claypool tonight. He tried to restrain her."

  "Did he?" He nodded thanks. "You have had a busy evening."

  I rubbed my head. "I'm looking forward to peace and quiet."

  A carriage rolled out of the coach house gates and stopped beside us. Hammer pushed off from the column. He kissed my forehead then opened the door.

  I climbed in, too stunned to think of a response. Too stunned even to say goodnight. I ended up turning around and waving at him through the rear window as the carriage drove off in the direction of the village. But he was already walking away, back to the palace.

  The worst thing about the patients staying away was that it made the days feel longer. There was only so much cleaning to do. I couldn't even visit Meg because her brother thought I was there to visit him. She did come to me when she could spare the time, and we went for long walks, often up to Lookout Hill where we could gaze upon the palace. It looked like a shiny pearl in an oyster from up there, a precious gem in otherwise bland surroundings. We were too far away to see figures moving about, but I wondered what my new friends were doing. Had Miranda managed to avoid the king? Had Laylana's memory been wiped again? Had Hammer spoken to the king about the gem yet?

  News of Lord Frederick's arrest had traveled quickly through the village, and Tam's part in the crime shocked many. I'd mentioned the Tao family's innocence to everyone I knew, but they must have been feeling the weight of the villagers' censure. Mika in particular seemed to withdraw into himself. He still manned the family spice stall, but he wasn't the same friendly youth anymore, and business appeared to be suffering. Many customers frequented the other spice seller in the market, and without my father's business, the stall must be struggling. I must continue to purchase my supplies for medicines from him, but not yet. It was too soon. Seeing him reminded me of his father's hand in my father's death.

  At least I was allowed to continue with the apothecary work and midwifery, but I wouldn't grow rich from either. It would barely cover my living expenses.

  The worst part about being bored was it allowed me time to think. Not just about the palace and its inhabitants, but about my parents and how much I missed them. I visited their graves every day, usually sitting with my back against one of the headstones until it became too hot.

  On the fourth day after the palace's revels, I strolled to the graveyard just outside the village in the afternoon, but found I wasn't the only visitor. Hammer knelt behind the headstone marking my father's grave. He appeared to be digging, but it wasn't until I looked over the headstone that I saw he'd just finished planting a seedling. The sight was so unexpected that I giggled, only to smother it when he looked sharply at me.

  "Gardening is one of your many skills, I see," I said.

  "I don't think so." He pushed his sword out of the way and sat back to admire his work. "I had to get instructions on what to do from the palace's head gardener. This is a riverwart plant."

  "I know. Why are you planting a riverwart plant behind my father's headstone?" I couldn't keep the amusement out of my voice. It was so absurd to see the captain gardening in a graveyard that I couldn't summon the solemnity the site required. My parents wouldn't have minded.

  "Once it grows, you can harvest the leaves, dry them, grind them, and use the powder in poison antidotes. I thought it a fitting tribute for your father."

  "Very useful. He'd like that. Thank you."

  He thrust the trowel into the soil and dusted off his hands as he stood. "Why is it called riverwart when it doesn't grow on riverbanks?"

  "I don't know. It's one of life's many mysteries."

  "The gardener told me it'll require watering every day while it's young."

  "I'll bring a jar of water with me when I come here."

  "He also said you should talk to it." He looked at the plant. "I don't think it's much of a conversationalist."

  I laughed. "So you do have a sense of humor."

  "That depends on who you speak to."

  "Don't flatter yourself. I don't speak about you to anyone."

  He smiled and, for once, it reached his eyes. They sparkled. "How is your head?"

  "Fine, thank you."

  "Will you sit with me under that tree?" He walked with me between headstones to the shady spot.

  "I'm glad you're here," I said, settling between two thick tree roots at the base of the trunk. He adjusted his sword and sat beside me. "I've been dying to know if you spoke to the king about the gem."

  "Not yet. I haven't told anyone, not even Theodore." He shook his head. "The king is, well, the king. He can throw me in jail, if he wants. He can have me executed. If he knows that I know he's lying, he might be prepared to do whatever it takes to stop me learning more. I'm going to proceed cautiously. But I am going to proceed."

  I didn't know how but I didn't question him. It was his decision to make, not mine.

  "And how is everyone at the palace after Lord Frederick's arrest?"

  "Shocked. Relieved that the poisoner has been caught. Saddened, too. He was liked by most."

  "What will happen to him?"

  "His trial is tomorrow. If he's found guilty, he'll be executed."

  "Is there enough evidence for him to be found guilty?"

  He nodded.

  I wasn't quite sure how I felt about that. I'd liked Lord Frederick. Then again, he'd hidden his true nature from everyone except his sister. "And his family? How is Lady Lucia coping?"

  "They were expelled from the palace the day after the revels. They've gone home."

  "They're not staying for the trial?"

  He shook his head. "They know there's no hope for him. They have to redeem themselves now. Going home and keeping low for a while is the best way to start, but it'll be a long time before the king trusts them again, even though there's no proof that Lord Frederick acted on the family's behalf."

  "And what of Lady Deerhorn and Lady Morgrave? Do you think they were involved in the poisoning too?"

  "I searched their rooms but found only a sleeping draught in Lady Morgrave's bedchamber. When pressed, she confessed that her mother bought it from Tamworth Tao. Lady Morgrave planned on giving it to her husband in the evenings to send him to sleep."

  "Did he confirm it?"

  "He didn't know about it and still doesn't. She begged me not to tell him." He stretched out his long legs. "She was going to use it on him that night and sneak out for a rendezvous."

  "With whom?"

  "She refused to tell me but I suspect with the king."

  I blinked at him. "I thought he wasn't with anyone in that way."

  "He hasn't been. But if she'd succeeded, that would have changed the night of the revels."

  "Oh. I see." It was, perhaps, a good way to secure the king's favor, particularly if she got herself pregnant. He might not be able to marry her, but he could keep her as his mistress and shower her with gifts. For some women, that would be enough.

  "Speaking of Lady Deerhorn," I said, "I ought to tell you that she saw me the night of the revels wearing Miranda's dress. She might inform the king." I bit my lip and steeled myself for his reaction.

  After a moment he said, "We'll worry about that when and if it happens. Thank you for telling me."

  I wound a blade of grass around my finger then unwound it. "I thought I should. You'll probably find out sooner or later, and I don't want to give you any more reasons to mistrust me."

  He drew up a knee
only to stretch his leg again. He blew out a measured breath. "I want to tell you that you're wrong, Josie, that I have always trusted you, but you'll know it's a lie."

  I hazarded a glance at him only to see him watching me closely, carefully, as if he were trying to gauge my thoughts. He should be able to read them easily enough. I was an open book, so everyone told me. It was for that reason I stared down at the grass again. Sometimes, a girl doesn't want to be too obvious.

  "I didn't trust you because you weren't from the palace," he said. "You might have helped save Lady Miranda's life, but you were still an outsider. It's difficult for me to trust anyone from the outside. I don't know why. I'm sorry. I should have told you about Laylana."

  "You should trust your instincts."

  "What if my instincts are terrible? They very well could be. I used to trust the king and look how that turned out."

  "I think your instincts told you he was lying long before you could admit it. Your instincts are good, Captain. I believe so, anyway."

  "Call me Dane," he said on a rush of breath.

  "Pardon?"

  "My name is Dane."

  I turned to see him properly and fell into his sea-blue eyes. He stared back at me and seemed to be waiting for me to say something. "Dane Hammer?" I asked.

  "Just Dane. I don't think Hammer is a family name. The other servants aren't known by anything other than their first name so why would I be any different?"

  I shook my head. "I don't understand. Why do they call you Hammer if it's not your name?"

  "On that first day, when our memories began, we knew three things—our position on the palace staff, our own name, and the name we knew the other staff and the king by. They all called me Hammer. I didn't correct them. They just seemed to assume I was called Hammer, just like I assumed Max was Max, Theodore was Theodore, and so on. At first, everyone thought it odd that they all had ordinary sounding names and I didn't, but that was soon forgotten. Not by me, though. The thing is, I knew my name was Dane." He tapped his temple. "In here, I knew Hammer was wrong, that the name wasn't mine."

  "So who is Hammer?"

  "I believe it's a nickname they gave me for some reason. No one else knows my real name is Dane except me."

  "Why not correct them?"

  He looked off into the distance. "What if there's a reason I never told them? If I had a good reason for keeping it a secret before, I'm going to keep it a secret now, at least until I know more."

  He spoke as if he had a life before the day his memories began. I hoped so. It meant these people weren't a figment of a magic trick, that they were real and had lives but had simply forgotten them. I liked that explanation better than the idea that they never existed before that first moment of consciousness.

  And then something else hit me. Hammer—Dane—was telling me something he'd not told anyone else. He didn't trust them with the knowledge, but he trusted me. It was humbling. I was grateful and immeasurably relieved. It meant we hadn't ruined all the good things between us. It meant we could start again.

  "Thank you, Dane." I lay my hand over his on the ground between us. "I appreciate you telling me."

  "It sounds odd hearing you say it. Odd but good."

  "I'll keep your secret."

  "I know." He turned his hand palm up and twined his fingers with mine. He held tightly, as if anchoring himself to me. Perhaps that's what he needed, a safe port to harbor, somewhere outside the palace, somewhere immune to its influence. I was happy to be that port. I needed the connection now too.

  "I wish I had something important to tell you too," I said. "Something that shows you I trust you, but all I have is a story about how I stole a handful of sugared almonds from Old Man Olly's stall when he wasn't looking. I was six and they tasted delicious but I was sick the next day." I smiled at him but he was still staring into the distance. My story hadn't amused him in the slightest. I wasn't sure if he'd even been listening.

  He untangled his fingers from mine and stood. "You shouldn't trust me, Josie," he said, striding past the headstones.

  My heart dove. Why did he have to ruin a perfectly pleasant moment? "I am aware of your temper, Dane," I said, following him. "But I know you won't hurt me or anyone who doesn't deserve it. If Brant has tried convincing you otherwise, he's wrong."

  "That's not it." He pulled the trowel out of the soil where he'd plunged it near the seedling. "Since you mentioned Brant, you should know he's the reason you can't trust me."

  I frowned. "That doesn't make sense."

  "We both have similar scars on our backs. We were both whipped. That links us, links our pasts. I don't trust Brant."

  "Nor do I, but—"

  "Then you shouldn't trust me either. Not until we find out why we both have those scars."

  I folded my arms and glared at him. "That's absurd."

  "I can't trust myself, Josie. Not until I know for sure what happened, who I am, and what I've done in the past. I can't expect anyone else to trust me either. I don't want anyone else to trust me. Especially you."

  I'd been about to argue with him again, but his final words stole my breath. I could only stare at him. Why especially me?

  He looked away. "Stay vigilant around me—around anyone from the palace. It's wise to be wary." He thrust the trowel through his belt as if it were a knife. "I have to go."

  He strode off. I stared at his back, too stunned to move, until he reached his horse, tied to a tree on the far side of the graveyard. I picked up my skirts and raced after him, but he rode off without a glance back. Perhaps it was just as well that I hadn't had the opportunity to ask if I could visit him at the palace. He might have forbidden it. This way, I didn't have to defy him. I could just show up in the garrison without guilt. I would need to be armed with a good excuse, however. One where he couldn't send me on my way as soon as I arrived.

  The problem was, I had no ideas. No ideas, yet a keen sense that I was needed, not just by Hammer—Dane—but by everyone in the palace. I was determined to help them regain their lost memories, whatever the cost.

  * * *

  Pre-order now:

  * * *

  THE ECHO OF BROKEN DREAMS

  The 2nd After The Rift novel by C.J. Archer.

  When a palace maid is attacked, Josie and the captain investigate. Meanwhile, a visit from an expert on magic brings both hope and danger.

  A Message From The Author

  I hope you enjoyed reading THE PALACE OF LOST MEMORIES as much as I enjoyed writing it. As an independent author, getting the word out about my book is vital to its success, so if you liked this book please consider telling your friends and writing a review at the store where you purchased it. If you would like to be contacted when I release a new book, subscribe to my newsletter at http://cjarcher.com/contact-cj/newsletter/.

  Also by C.J. Archer

  SERIES WITH 2 OR MORE BOOKS

  After The Rift

  Glass and Steele

  The Ministry of Curiosities Series

  The Emily Chambers Spirit Medium Trilogy

  The 1st Freak House Trilogy

  The 2nd Freak House Trilogy

  The 3rd Freak House Trilogy

  The Assassins Guild Series

  Lord Hawkesbury's Players Series

  The Witchblade Chronicles

  SINGLE TITLES NOT IN A SERIES

  Courting His Countess

  Surrender

  Redemption

  The Mercenary's Price

  About the Author

  C.J. Archer has loved history and books for as long as she can remember and feels fortunate that she found a way to combine the two. She spent her early childhood in the dramatic beauty of outback Queensland, Australia, but now lives in suburban Melbourne with her husband, two children and a mischievous black & white cat named Coco.

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